Hope

By the late afternoon, everything had been arranged, relaying the plans to Aaron included - even though the Tears would play a limited role. Irwyn’s old friends were skilled and subtle but the situation likely called for a cudgel. Only Waylan would even accompany him and only from a good distance, then run at the first sight of trouble. Most of the coordination was to make sure none of their members would be at the Bar in case things escalated. That was easy enough given Aaron had already made sure of that the day prior when finding out about the suppressed memories. The rest was really more about staying put and ready to react if need be.

When it was time for Irwyn to go, Elizabeth still had one more thing to relay. She had been looking somewhat hesitant for at least an hour. Before then she had been distracted with the actual planning, though once that no longer required her hand directly she seemed suddenly consumed with newfound anxiety. At near the last moment, she finally spoke.

“Take this as well,” she handed him a simple black gemstone. It looked completely mundane to Irwyn’s eye and yet Elizabeth stared at it with something in between awe and fear. An incredible reaction given how often she perceived the insane as mundane.

“What does it do,” Irwyn hesitantly took it. Elizabeth’s hand almost struggled to let go.

“It’s a final contingency,” she said solemnly. “And I mean final, Irwyn. It’s meant for a ‘I am seconds from dying’ emergency.”

“Yet you are giving it to me,” Irwyn noted - despite all her paranoia. “Are you sure?”

“I will be stuck here, quite safe,” she smiled, still staring at the gem in question. “You on the other hand…”

“Thank you, I really appreciate it,” Irwyn nodded. “So, how would I use it?”

“Just push Light into it, it should shatter easily even with one or two intentions.”

“Wouldn’t that make it prone to just breaking randomly?” Irwyn frowned.

“It can only be shattered with knowledge of it and the will to break it - supposedly,” Elizabeth shrugged. “It is above me.”

“And what happens then?” Irwyn asked.

“I am explicitly forbidden from explaining that,” she sighed. “I am honestly not completely certain myself but I have some guesses. What I do know is that it is meant to protect me in a truly desperate moment.”

“You,” Irwyn noted the wording.

“I will be in trouble if it is found out I let it leave my person, yes,” she nodded. “Nonetheless, if you must use... it is far preferable to the alternative.”

“I suppose I owe you twice over for that.”

“It’s the least I can do since I am just going to be sitting here,” she shook her head.

“Agree to disagree,” Irwyn shrugged. “Either way it is time. See you soon.”

“Good luck.”

With that Irwyn went. Outside Alice was already chatting with Hiera and his squad. They were five mages, including the Sergeant, each past the halfway point of imbuement.

“Sergeant,” Irwyn greeted Hiera with a nod. He had managed to retain the name considering it had come up dozens of times during the day.

“Sir,” the man returned it, seemingly unsure on how to address Irwyn. His expression was serious as can be though. “Are we moving out?”

“Yes, as we agreed…”

“...We follow from a distance, then wait at the designated spot, wait for a signal,” Hiera finished for him.

“Flame is kill, Light is capture, Starfire is retreat,” Irwyn reminded with a nod. It was a simple way for him to signal things.

“We are professionals… sir,” one of the squadmates said, seemingly annoyed at being reminded again. Well, he probably had a point - Elizabeth had channeled her paranoia into preparing obsessively. That had resulted in levels of micromanagement and plan preaching that couldn’t have been pleasant, especially if the squad was even half as competent as they acted.

Still, that had been a rude remark. No reason to reply politely. “Trust is gained, soldier,” Irwyn glanced at the man. “You must first earn the presumption of competence from me.”

“We should get going,” Hiera moved to bail out his subordinate without putting himself in the line of fire. Fine by Irwyn as he was not planning to push any further anyway.

“Yep, I got it,” Alice agreed, finishing up her spell - she had begun her preparations at some point during the conversation. A portal opened in front of her which Irwyn immediately stepped through; if their camp was being actively observed somehow, leaving through one of the physical gates might tip the presumed assassins off. And him not walking out of the camp could instead help him sell the lie.

Hiera’s squad would follow, Irwyn knew. Not that he would see it as they had a dedicated specialist for group stealth. It was not nearly on Waylan’s or Elizabeth's level, of course, but the mage made things convincing enough that Irwyn would not be able to spot them with eyesight alone. The magic was far more traceable to Irwyn, though mostly from up close and in part because of his Light affinity and practice - the spell in use was Void based, working on similar principles of impresence as Elizabeth’s own.

The squad would move to a predetermined spot near one of the bar’s many tunnel exits where they would wait. Depending on how things developed, Irwyn had the option of using them for an ambush or as reinforcements if things got out of hand. The squad being ‘elite’ meant that unlike the rank and file each of the members was well past the halfway point of imbuement, making them assets in a fight on Irwyn’s current level.

Waylan would also be… somewhere. Irwyn had tried to pass onto him the importance of staying out of collateral damage range and hoped his friend adhered. His role would be that of a messenger – magical communication would likely be too noticeable so Waylan would instead follow Irwyn around and relay news. Whether that be to Hiera’s squad, Elizabeth, or even the Tears, the sneak would need to exercise his best judgment.

After a few minutes of walking Irwyn was at one of the entrances to the Guild’s gathering place. He had donned his Mockingbird mask as well as the very same suit from the day he had first come make an impression at the Bar. Beneath that, he had also once again borrowed the ring altering his appearance into something notably different from his usual - just in case the presumed assassins had a way to see through his mask, best he looked nothing like his own description beneath.

Through the doorway, down the stairs, then following a long-ish tunnel until he found himself standing at the entrance to the Guild’s Bar. He had contemplated arriving invisible as to make his meeting a tad bit more clandestine, though that had ultimately been decided against. He had no real reason to hide and invisibility might be misinterpreted as hostility. And the plan was that Irwyn would try to talk to them before making a decision.

Right as he stepped through the door a murmur quickly took the room over. Irwyn held both his hands behind his back as he stepped forward, already feeling the strangeness in one corner of the room. No one stopped him as he trod between the occupied tables, all eyes on him as he reached the perceived anomaly. Light magic, with a hint of something else - probably soul since being invisible would not be enough to go completely unnoticed for long. Irwyn could not see through the seemingly empty spot but he did not need to.

“Break,” he said, pretending to need the half chant, summoning his own Light to pierce into it. The spell was, in principle, simple and not particularly sturdy. It shattered like glass when Irwyn subverted its stability, revealing the hidden duo.

The first man was a chain of brilliance. A binding so glorious one welcomed it - asked to be fettered just to gloat in its radiant glory. The man himself was visibly advanced in age despite the mask – wrinkled skin being the biggest giveaway – wearing strange green leather, seemingly pox-marked with subtle yellow dots. Besides that there were also many small colored ribbons sewed into the clothing.

The other was blinding luminescence made flesh. The man’s very existence was antithesis to sight, yet demanded to be beheld. If he so wished every eye would gather, like moths to flame, then be forced to close forever. Beneath that presence though was a man wearing a similarly strange attire to their compatriot. Like their companion, he wore a smiling mask Irwyn was not familiar with.

Conception magic. Irwyn did not panic. This had been considered as a possibility, however unlikely. He had kept his hand behind his back for a reason, subtly raising five fingers. A signal for Waylan who would be sure to see and report the situation to Hiera. Maybe Elizabeth directly, unless his friend chose to return. Suppressing his worries, Irwyn stepped closer to the two men, schooling his expression despite the mask.

“Pleasure, gentlemen,” Irwyn nodded as he sat down, creating himself a chair of Light. “I apologize for not welcoming you sooner to our City. Alas, you have not announced yourselves.”

“We thought it best things be off the record,” the concept of blinding manifest said. It was a good thing Kalista had only seen them through walls, barriers, and from a distance, otherwise this one would have likely hurt her by his very nature.

“Fortunately then, records are often not kept, not by us, anyway,” Irwyn nodded. The pair seemed more amused than offended. If they were indeed mercenaries as Elizabeth had presumed being professional and focused on business was likely the best bet to keep them calm. “But I couldn’t help but notice some trouble cropping up in my City.”

“Trouble?” the Light Chainer inclined their head. He also sounded old.

“Now, gentlemen, I might take some offense at you for coming to work in my City without letting anyone in to tell me - but fair enough I have been rather hands-off. I would overlook it for fellow mages,” Irwyn glanced between the two. “Now what I find more troubling is who you have been asking about. Given we are strangers I will give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you do not know whose toes you are about to step on.”

“And whose would that be?” Blinder – a good and memorable placeholder for the man’s unknown name – asked with almost tangible amusement.

“You know, your clothes tell me you are not exactly used to wearing Black,” Irwyn started. “So you might not have heard. We have a few Tennets in our Guild, not quite binding but highly recommended for the good of everyone. In particular, what you are doing come rather close to breaching the Third.”

“Don’t mess with House Blackburg, was it?” Blinder said with a chuckle.

Instead of answering right away Irwyn looked between the two. The mask concealed their faces but the body and hands still revealed much. For one there was no tension. No surprise at the implication. No fear.

“Fuck me, you know exactly what you are doing,” Irwyn said, taking a deep breath.

“Which also just so happens to be none of your business,” the chaining mage opined. Chainer? Good enough.

“It will be very much my problem when the Duke razes the entire underworld to the ground, executes everyone I have ever met, then presumably captures our souls to torture further,” Irwyn spat out with all the heat he could muster in the moment. “They slaughtered us for someone attempting to steal from a caravan by one senile fool. If someone clearly closely involved with that girl blatantly wearing their insignia dies it will be madness.”

“If only I cared,” Blinder inclined his head.

“But I do,” Irwyn crossed his hand in front of him, thinking. He had to get away, that could only happen if he convinced them to let him. They had a plan for that, he just needed to adapt and correct it a bit. After a dozen silent seconds, Irwyn spoke again. “You would not be doing something this dangerous if it was something you could be talked out of, I suppose.”

“No can do,” Blinder shrugged.

“And business was doing so well,” Irwyn sighed. “All right, I know when to cut my losses. I will let you hire my gang help you.”

“Or we remove you,” Chainer suggested with a bit of cheek.

“If you kill me, people will talk,” Irwyn shrugged. “If you kill everyone here you will be found out anyway, or at least close enough to it that it will make your job impossible and your position much more dangerous. And I do have a lot to offer. Sure, I might be gambling with my life on the line, but this hand does look good enough and folding is not an option.”

“I have doubts about this ‘usefulness’ you attribute yourself,” Chainer said.

“A poor bluff,” Irwyn scoffed. “You would have done your research, so you know that my Tears do work with that military camp down by the slums. You also know damn well that ever since the attack - which I now presume was your doing - no one important has so much as stepped into the line of sight of an entrance. So here you are, stuck, hoping they somehow decide to suddenly stop acting on their paranoia.”

“It is only a matter of Time,” Blinder shrugged again.

“I suppose you could find some undead for them to kill, hoping who you want goes to see,” Irwyn nodded. “But then, they will probably notice it was bait and become thrice as paranoid as they already are. They have been running my people half-ragged, chasing after non-existent ghosts in wine cellars and supposed necromancers in a potion shop. I wouldn’t count on recklessness.”

“But you are suggesting you can convince them to leave that camp?” It was Chainer who spoke up.

“They are dead sure that it was the undead,” Irwyn nodded. “And so they will never expect the living to double-cross them. It will take some thinking but I am confident I can craft a specific enough lie to get your man to come out.”

“Fine,” Chainer nodded after the two shared a look. “Let’s talk details.”

“Not now,” Irwyn shook his head. “We both need to cover our asses. Talking long enough for a precise deal? People will see. Then the Blackburgs will have me dead to rights as a prime suspect within the hour afterwards. No, we will meet outside in a few hours with no one looking on, any entrance you want.”

“Five minutes,” Blinder corrected.

“It will defeat the whole point if you just follow right after me.”

“I will leave behind illusions, there are no mages that could see through them here.”

“Hmm, that will work,” Irwyn nodded after a moment. “Where?”

“The exit by the abandoned bookstore,” Chainer answered.

“Then see you there,” Irwyn nodded. “How transparent is this sphere from the outside?”

“Our general shapes can be seen,” Blinder replied.

“Very well,” Irwyn stood up. “Now I sell it to the crowd.”

He began to gesticulate with his hands as angrily as he could emulate. The mask hid his face so no one on the outside would be able to see he was not actually speaking but it would look like he was furiously ranting. Then Irwyn stepped back, taking a deep breath.

“You absolute, dell…” he stepped out of the bubble. “...usional fools! If you want to commit elaborate suicide, be my guests. I will have no part in it. Out of respect, I will give you until tomorrow to get the hell out of my City. If we meet each other again I will be ending that encounter with a head in each hand!” then Irwyn turned towards the staring room. “I am pre-emptively glad no one present will be stupid enough to speak with those two, am I understood?” then he turned around and stormed out in a feigned huff.

He was immediately followed.

The two conception mages did not wait the promised five minutes, leaving the illusion of them remaining at their table while pursuing with invisibility. Irwyn pretended not to notice, instead slowly walking ahead.

“Abandoned bookstore, huh?” Irwyn muttered and shook his head when he was seemingly alone. If Waylan was still nearby it would give his friend time to do whatever he thought best. Then he headed to that particular exit. Thankfully, the Guild had actually marked the way across the walls in subtle code as Irwyn had found out and knew roughly how to follow each of those trails. That way he could get to the once-store even though it would be his first time leaving through there.

Waylan was already waiting for him, leaning against a wall. It was a bit of a stretch that his friend knew where to find him but hopefully whatever they were about to improvise would offset that. The area was abandoned as it was evening in the part of time people generally did not want to linger, meaning they did not need to move somewhere more secluded.

“So, how did it go?” his friend asked as soon as he spotted Irwyn.

“Moment,” Irwyn raised his hand, then pretended to weave a spell with the other. It was an older construct of his - a remote eye. He wasn’t sure how advanced the spell that perceived things through the Light touching them was nor how subtle it would be. He needed something simple that he could be sure would be noticed while he pretended to hide it. It was, after all, a stage act. The two conception mages were already standing right beside them. “Could have been better, our guess was right.”

“So, they after the Blackburg, eh?” Waylan caught on, immediately acting for an audience he could not see.

“And they know what they are after, mad men,” Irwyn nodded.

“Could you take them?” his friend asked, probably half genuinely.

“Definitely not,” Irwyn shook his head with the genuine answer, then added flair. “Something is off about them, unlike any mage I have seen and I cannot tell how good they really are. My skin was crawling the whole time we spoke.”

“What do we do then?” Waylan sighed. “Report it and hope for the best?”

“We could,” Irwyn admitted. It would be too suspicious to not consider it. “But then we just get used as decoys anyway. Disposable pawns of our dear tyrants.”

“Nothing else to do though, is there?” Waylan shrugged.

“We could… help them.”

“Yer fucking with me,” Waylan paused, feigning shock. “Ain’t no way we get away with that. It’s batshit.”

“No, think about it,” Irwyn shook his head. “We will not be their first suspects by a longshot. You saw how they think about normal people: They will assume only mages could have been involved. Then they will also try to go after those far more powerful than me first - look for traitors inside their ranks rather than the nobody thief. It will give us a head start.”

“So, we die in a week, not a day?” Waylan frowned. “Well, presuming a quick death - stupid fucking assumption, Mockie. Ain’t no way they don’t take their Time.”

“Not if we leave today,” Irwyn said, looking up at the sky. It was getting late. “Maybe tomorrow. First thing past dawn.”

“I am still not seeing why that is the better option,” Waylan noted.

“Mostly, I think the odds we live that are not any worse, maybe even better,” Irwyn nodded, then his gaze sharpened. “And since that is the case, maybe the untouchable House Blackburg deserves a slight taste of their own poison.”

“Pursuing revenge is stupid,” Waylan grimaced.

“They took your sister’s eye,” Irwyn improvised the first plausible lie that came to mind. Though the purge of their underworld had been cruel, they had avoided it. That did not mean that its infamy left no wiggling room to make up stories in such a widespread event.

“Still stupid,” Waylan grit his teeth, pausing. “Alright, say I wanna commit this sure suicide with you. What do we do?”

“They will meet with me here soon,” Irwyn nodded. “Go to Aaron and start preparing. We keep just a skeleton crew to keep up appearances. The rest leave first thing tomorrow. I will try to bargain them down to at least 4 days of prep time. That should be enough head start to get a city or three away.”

“Where they will still find us.”

“They mostly only know my face and barely,” Irwyn shrugged. “Everyone else is below the nepo brat’s notice. We will need to rebrand, change our names, but we can get away with it.”

“Fuck, we are actually doing this?” Waylan groaned.

“I think I have made up my mind,” Irwyn nodded.

“I would pray but I don’t think Umbra is on our side with this one,” Waylan groaned. “Fine, good luck. Get us at least something in return.”

“That’s what negotiations are for,” Irwyn nodded as Waylan turned around and left. Their two observers remained around for a few seconds longer but when it became clear Irwyn would stay in contemplative silence they left back down to the Guild’s tunnel. Less than a minute later they were returning, walking down the hallway.

Irwyn could still feel them. The presence of their concepts was just… too stark in the ambient absence of Ebon Respite, for all they were trying to suppress it. Such a feat would require a spell dedicated to the task, which they had not opted to re-erect. Still, he waited until the moment he could see the first trace of them in his remote eye before dismissing the spell, intentionally doing a poor job in hiding the residual magic.

“So, I suppose you have had time to ponder what you can offer,” Chainer smiled as the duo walked out.

“You want your mark out of that camp,” Irwyn nodded. “I am confident that can be arranged.”

“When?”

“Seven days.”

“Two.”

“That is just ridiculous,” Irwyn scoffed. “Five. That’s more than reasonable.”

“Two,” the man repeated.

“Four at the very least,” Irwyn grit his teeth. “You think it’s a matter of hours to convince a bunch of paranoid freaks that they need to leave their fort but at the same time the situation doesn’t require reinforcements?”

“Fine, three,” Chainer half-heartedly relented. “If you can convince us this idea of yours has any chance of working.”

“Fine. You are fleecing me on time so I hope you will at least pay well,” Irwyn sighed but nodded his head. “The plan is obvious: The army thinks there are undead in the City. So, we will give them the undead they so desperately desire. Plenty of them. So much so the twat you want will have to see for himself.”

“You seem sure.”

“I have had to deal with these people for months,” Irwyn nodded. “I am confident it will work if done properly, though I do need Time to prepare this. And I still expect to be paid.”

“I think this will suffice,” Blinder took a ring out of his pocket. “I have no further use for it.”

It was a ring - because every other enchanted piece apparently was - enchanted quite heavily. It was obviously Light aligned and at first glance… a maze of some sort. Maybe a puzzle?

“What does it do,” Irwyn still feigned complete ignorance despite his guesses.

“A portable training regiment,” Blinder said. “Quite useful for someone like you.”

“Then, gentlemen, I think we have a deal,” Irwyn reached for the ring.

“On completion,” the man tsked.

“On reaching the final step,” Irwyn immediately shot back. “I don’t intend to be in this city by the time you two are done.”

“Fine,” Chainer agreed in the other man’s stead “See us right here in two days. We will be expecting more precise details.”

“Will do,” Irwyn nodded. “Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen.”

And then the three of them split. Or at least seemingly. Indeed, visually, two people walked in the other direction from Irwyn. Unfortunately, or perhaps very fortunately, Irwyn was quite aware that was not the case. Merely that an illusion had left while the duo depicted by it had turned invisible.

He was, once again, being followed.